


West

by Czigany



Category: Original Work
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, Implied Character Death, Implied Child Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Czigany/pseuds/Czigany
Summary: He heads West.(A dream once dreamt: the yellow haze of suburban dystopia.)
Kudos: 2





	West

He sits on the couch drinking lemonade. He’s not thirsty, but he’s got nothing better to do than try and tune her out. They’ve got twins now, and Becker is watching him with a weird look in his eye.  
  
She’s saying something now though and he really ought to pay attention.  
  
Becker heads out the glass doors behind them to watch the sunrise. She’s still speaking, about the boys.  
  
“... He might have been fine, you know, but they’ve got this intelligence. It’s too familiar. My looks and these smarts. He might have been fine if it was someone else. Almost anyone else.”  
  
He knows what she’s implying but he doesn’t respond. Just turns his head to the back yard, but Becker’s already gone. Falling. She doesn’t flinch.  
  
Neither does he.  
  
Why should he get in the middle of their disputes? He doesn’t believe her, after all.  
  
She watches him quaff the rest of his lemonade and stand.  
  
“I’m going out West.”  
  
It’s the first thing he’s spoken all visit.  
  
“Might look for a beach. There’s a girl waiting, in red. Gonna grill with her.”  
  
The implication is there. She’s lied to him and to Becker, and now it doesn’t matter to either of them.  
  
He leaves her sitting on the sofa, staring after him. He leaves Becker in the back yard, staring at nothing.  
  
  
  
  
The next time he sees her, the couch has changed but not much else.  
  
The boys are grown up, but he doesn’t ask to see them. They aren’t his concern.  
  
She’s talking again, and again he’s tuning her out.  
  
This time, he only stares at the lemonade. He’s not thirsty and she keeps twitching in a way that lets him know something’s wrong.  
  
He stands.  
  
She follows, reaches out to him like she’s something that could ever anchor him here. She flinches.  
  
He never has.  
  
He leaves her standing there in the doorway, staring after him. He leaves the boys upstairs where they’ve fallen, staring at nothing.  
  
Sirens sound, but he tunes them out.  
  
He heads West.


End file.
